The Yale man’s eyes wandered to the big buckets of paste which ranged along the wall.
“How long would it take you to mix up a lot of paste like that?” he inquired.
The billposter looked puzzled.
“About an hour or so,” he returned. “What yer after?”
Dick smiled.
“I want about that much ready at twelve o’clock sharp,” he returned. “I also want three or four big brushes that you put it on with. Where do you suppose I could get those?”
The fellow waved his hand to where a lot of them hung in rows against the wall.
“What’s the matter with them?” he inquired. “The old man’ll never miss ’em if you get ’em back by six o’clock. He’s got a big job on for to-morrer, an’ he’s going to start at six.”
“I don’t want to use his brushes,” Dick said quickly. “Isn’t there some place around town where I could buy some?”
The billposter shook his head.